


Branded by Thunder

by Nyashi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurts So Good, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Sorry, Post-Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), spoilers for Crimson Flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-27 17:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20411863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyashi/pseuds/Nyashi
Summary: Catherine and Shamir never managed to see eye to eye.And yet Shamir had loved her, truly.How can something as beautiful as love turn into this?





	1. Lie Down in the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys I wrote this to get some of the angst out of my system to make way for fluffy feelings for my other fic. I'm not gonna blabber too much about it here, i hope you enjoy!

Shamir was getting used to the Bergliez boy visiting her and Catherine’s home on his way to some mission or another Edelgard had put him up to. Whether the Emperor truly needed him to head out of the capital that often or just grew tired of trying to match his energy was… most likely classified.  
Fortunately for the people involved there was someone who could match the blue haired boy’s enthusiasm. Unfortunately for Shamir, that person had been her wife.

Day to day life was already hard enough trying to keep not only Catherine but also two children reined in. Whenever she saw the accursed patch of blue through the window Shamir had learned to give up on any semblance of hope for a quiet day she so naively held.

Surprisingly, the day had gone smoothly: Caspar had played with the kids under Catherine’s watchful eye and left just a few hours later. Shamir lamented that she’d already prepared food for five but Catherine reassured there was no way she’d let her wife’s cooking go to waste. The kids didn’t even complain about being put to bed. She felt like she could get used to this.

“Alright, the pests are fast asleep” Catherine had said wrapping her arms around Shamir’s waist “I’m all yours now,” lips briefly found her neck. Catherine’s fondness for physical affection could be considered overwhelming; Shamir had hardly known the warmth of another, after all, even as a child. It was surprisingly nice, though, she found.

Catherine’s warmth had saved her in the past, more than the woman could ever realize. Especially after Shamir sided against Rhea, opting to serve the empire instead.

And Catherine had followed her. She threw away her entire life to be with the one she loved. Shamir, of course, loved her back and wouldn’t change the past for the world– But insecurities were always quick to make themselves known, no matter how much Shamir tried to suppress them.

“Are you sure this was the right choice” Shamir asked softly, almost as if she didn’t want Catherine to hear the question. As if Catherine would realize the life they’d been sharing wasn’t quite right. She turned around and her wife just quirked an eyebrow.

“Being all yours? Yeah I’m pretty sure it’s the right choice?” she ended the statement with her tone turning quizzical, clearly not understanding the underlying question “Are you alright?” The kindness in her eyes hurt Shamir. She knew of the fire that could burn inside them, she knew of their steely glare.

Why could they, then, hold that much kindness and compassion? How could those eyes still love her?

“I meant siding with Edelgard… siding with me.” Shamir continued, forcing her voice not to break. “Are you sure this is what you really wanted” she held back the tears, she’d been holding them back for so long already.  
Catherine’s face softened further. How that was possible Shamir couldn’t begin to explain.

“Of course it was, Shamir. I love you.” Catherine said, bringing her closer, softly kissing Shamir on the forehead “I would choose you again and again, as many times as it takes.” Her tone was so soft, warm as the sun. Almost as if saying 'it’s ok, I forgive you.'

Shamir wrapped her own arms around the woman.

And woke up clutching metal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry about that.  
I HAD to do that, angst feeds me.  
as an aside, i know Thunderbrand is made of bone but metal flowed better as a sentence.  
Look forward to the next chapter in which even more suffering occurs!


	2. Sound of your Death

“I love you too…” the words had left her mouth effortlessly, as if practiced a thousand times. And they were, in a sense, as that dream came back to haunt her night after night. Taunting her, reminding her of what could’ve been; of the one thing she longed for most of all.

And yet she couldn’t have it, her life had been ripped away from her very hands.

No.

She’d ripped it apart herself.

Another day in her personal hell had begun.

Shamir had been walking for hours, her sins weighing every step down. The sword at her hip nothing more than a shackle. But why did that shackle give her such comfort? How could a weapon hold so much warmth? She berated herself, memories were pointless; they brought nothing but hurt.

But then why had Catherine’s arms been the only place the hurt didn't reach? Shamir laughed dryly at her own hypocrisy; she knew she had no right to be forgiven and yet longed to hear those words from her beloved’s lips. The same lips she wishes she could’ve met with her own. The same lips that had uttered words of comfort for the very person who would forever seal them.

The bandit camp came into view. She’d been tracking them for weeks, and they were finally within reach.

Shamir reached for thunderbrand, her hand was met with its familiar warmth. Fire that burned through her veins all the way to her heart.

The pain was how she knew she was alive.

“Let’s do this, partner.” she said, no response.

The bandits never stood a chance.

Shamir found herself standing surrounded by a sea of death before they could even realise she’d attacked. The lone survivor of the camp was shivering on the ground, his legs parted from his body at the knee. He was crawling away from her inevitable strides, steps like the ticking hands of time counting down to his assured demise. He had terror in his eyes, not an ounce of fire or steel, pathetic.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS” he screamed with tears trailing down his face, visibly recoiling every time his hands touched one of his former comrades. “WHO EVEN ARE YOU?” the man found his back to a rock, the fear in his eyes growing by the second. Shamir stopped and stared the bandit down

“I am Cassandra.” Were the last words the man heard

He never moved again.

Shamir hated the feeling of blood on her hands, it reminded her of that day.

The day her sun shone the brightest, one last time.

Goddess, even her blood had been warm on her hands.

“Hey… chin up” she’d said, seeing the tears welling up in her own killer’s eyes, running a gentle thumb over Shamir’s cheek. Her hand felt like the summer breeze “You won this one, partner…”

And Catherine was no more.

Shamir fell to her knees then as she did now, long held tears forcing their way through.

Silent tears meant only for the dead to see. Tears of mourning and regret.

And both times her hands were warm. Thunderbrand’s red glow grew with the heat, as if the sword itself was lamenting the senseless waste of human lives.

“I’m sorry, partner” she apologized, softly running her hand along the blade “But I have to do this… I must atone.”

Darkness emerged from the crest stone, slowly making its way over Shamir’s hand, all the way up to the elbow. The shadows were burning hot, leaving marks on her skin. Yet she couldn’t help but feel comfort in the sensation.

And then, as though the sword had a mind of her own, the darkness stopped, retreating back to the cracked crest stone.

“Even now you just won’t let me die…” she let out a chuckle, her expression turning wry. “I guess I get to live another day, then.” She said, laying down. She paid no mind to the blood and dirt clinging to her hair and clothes. She placed Catherine's cape and pauldron on a dry, clean spot. Her memory wouldn’t be sullied by blood, not anymore.

That night she saw her smile again, the Bergliez boy came by again, and her kids had kissed her goodnight again.

The next morning she found herself clutching the sword once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join us next time in which Shamir finally gets the hug she so desperately wants.


	3. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shamir finally gets the hug she deserves as the swan sings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to publish, turns out that if you force yourself to write three chapters in a manic state in one day you get a bit burnt out! Who knew!   
Without further ado, here's the final chapter.

The end of one’s life is something that anyone in Shamir’s line of work had to contend with. Shamir herself had always thought she’d be killed during a mission or as a sacrificial pawn, she’d almost come to terms with the notion that her life would end for a contractor’s benefit.

Catherine had changed that, she’d given her meaning. She’d shone a light on her life and showed her that even a young girl with no allegiance nor a place to call home was capable of great things. In a sense Catherine _ was _ her home.

And now Shamir was left alone without a home once more, the same lost girl who’d left Dagda with nothing but a bow in her hands and ice in her heart.

Goddess, she missed the ice.

The fire in her veins pulsed once more, pain setting her blood alight. The sword was telling her to let go of the past; Catherine had forgiven her with her dying breath.

But Shamir couldn’t forgive herself. She gripped the sword tighter, fueled only by her desire to make amends for the first time in her life.

She stumbled forward, a million fireflies screaming along with each heartbeat. It hurt.

Her thoughts drifted towards her first mission for the church. She’d been sent to assassinate some key figure or another from the western church by Lady Rhea’s direct command. Shamir couldn’t remember anything about the man, he was just some pompous noble whose life she had permission to end with a single arrow.

She would never get the satisfaction to do so. That day there had been a fire, her target was among the victims claimed by the raging flames. Shamir was caught in them as well. Catherine had patched her up, rather than Manuela. Lady Rhea didn’t like having the new recruit interact with faculty much. Shamir couldn’t blame her.

She did, however, find herself blaming the cocky woman making fun of her squirming. Bandages rubbing on burnt skin was no joke but, clearly, the woman thought otherwise. Lady Rhea had decided that, for some reason, Catherine was the only person she trusted with dealing with Shamir.

And it took Shamir a decade to realize the moon always needs the sun to shine, even though Rhea had known all along. For an ancient dragon she sure knew plenty about the human heart. Enough to meddle, at least.

Tendrils of darkness left the crest stone once more, slipping through her fingers much like how Catherine’s would intertwine with hers on their strolls across the grounds.

Those sacred grounds she could briefly call a home. The very same home Edelgard had taken from her.

Shamir stopped that thought from spreading further, she agreed with Edelgard. She believed in her victory.

She wanted to hate her, she really did. 

But in the end Shamir couldn’t even decline the invitation to the royal wedding. The two were too perfectly matched for Shamir to even consider scorning their happiness. Even though it had been built on her own lover’s grave. Edelgard’s face when her eyes met the Professor’s had been too radiant, it reminded Shamir of Catherine.

She’d left the city quietly before hearing the last of the vows.

The pain had spread to her shoulder, dark tendrils wrapping around every inch of it. And yet they left the pauldron immaculate. Shamir briefly thought of Catherine giving one last shot at keeping Shamir grounded, desperately clinging to her humanity. The woman had been detestably stubborn after all.

Her mind wandered yet more, a black haze clouding memory after memory.

She thought of the foolish king’s valiant last stand, Shamir never understood that type but the strength he’d shown on that field was nothing short of superhuman. The image of him lifting one of Edelgard’s armored generals flashed to mind before being enveloped by the fog.

She thought of Rhea’s ghastly roars, of the sounds of the people of Fhirdiad burning alive as the church refused to open the doors, of the smell of death refusing to leave the once beautiful kingdom capital for months. All those memories faded as quickly as they’d appeared as well.

She thought of the Bergliez boy who’d thrown himself in the way of a javelin to shield her. His name eluded her but the flash of blue hair that accompanied his booming voice could never leave her. When exactly had he grown on her? That thought, too, was swallowed by the all-consuming haze.

Shamir had to move fast, she was still within walking distance of a village. Catherine would never forgive her if something happened to it.

Shamir finally reached a cave, thank the Goddess for Charon’s mountains and their labyrinthine depths. Her feet dragged along the rough, rocky ground. Tendrils of black soon reaching her ankles, pulsating back and forth in an endless tug of war that seared her skin.

She finally reached a part of the cave she was confident no beast would be able to escape and let herself fall to the ground. Her heart was beating, and it was beating fast.

Was it fear? Was it anticipation? Shamir didn’t know, her emotions had begun to get muddy long before she set out on her self-destructive journey.

Excitement and fear.

Mourning and relief.

Love and hate.

They were all the same.

Everything felt the same.

Shamir let go of the last of her humanity, she was ready to let the beast of thunder take its revenge, the same beast that had accompanied her on this journey.

As the darkness spread to her head it seemed to clear her mind of the obfuscating fog. It burnt every stray thought that had been haunting Shamir until there was only one left. 

“Together at last, my love…” the words left her with reverence, a broken prayer to the sun.

And the shadows embraced her with their warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's it, i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it through the tears!  
Big shoutout to the two wonderful people who did fanart for my dumb story, you can check them out  
Here: https://twitter.com/Jinxxed_Vexx/status/1168006322689728512  
And here: https://twitter.com/hoeforhelena/status/1167211080193646593  
Show em some love!


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